


At His Side

by kurokonekokilled



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, Comfort, Confessions, Creative use of kido, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Onmitsukido - Freeform, Onmitsukido Ichigo, Onmitsukido Kisuke, because Kisuke, ichigo and Yoruichi are cousins, kisuke is a little damaged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokonekokilled/pseuds/kurokonekokilled
Summary: Canon divergent. Kisuke has lived in Rukongai his entire life, but when Onmitsukido operatives came and offered him a legitimate way into Seireitei - and three meals a day - he'd taken them up on it. Now he's the vice-supervisor of the Maggot's Nest alongside Shiba Ichigo, and he's so lost.Shiba Ichigo noticed Kisuke sneaking in to Seireitei every so often and just... watching, and he's finally managed to get the man as his partner. Maybe the guy is a lot cuter than Ichigo thought he'd be. Maybe he's falling for him. But that would be stupid, right?





	1. Chapter 1

Urahara Kisuke was Rukongai trash, born and raised.

Ok, maybe not born, definitely not raised, but he had no memories of his former life, and Rukongai was where he'd scraped along and kept himself alive until now, so it was close enough for him.

Of course, now, he was no longer in Rukongai, and was standing uncomfortably in what was most certainly the nicest room he’d ever been in in his life. He was… understandably apprehensive.

He'd snuck around, had slipped his way into Seireitei a few more times than he'd be willing to admit to, and he knew the insignia of the Onmitsukido quite well, thank you. That knowledge was the only reason he'd not fought back, nor had he tried to run, when they'd approached him. Along with the fact that he hadn't eaten in days and was probably too weak to do so anyway when they showed up.

There was a ragtag group of sixteen others that they’d added him to, none with considerable spiritual pressure, but most with more bloodlust than brains. He wasn't entirely certain his handlers knew he wasn't in the same vein.

But it hardly mattered now, because the door was opening, and three people were making their way through, reiatsu clearly dampened and yet still nearly suffocating. Kisuke slunk back further towards the edge of the group, allowing the less wary to push forward.

The first to enter was a woman with sable skin and long, vibrantly purple hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her uniform was skin tight and cut off at the shoulders, leaving heavily muscled arms free as she crossed them over her chest. Her lecherous grin seemed to endear her to a few of the bolder men in the group, but Kisuke very nearly ducked when her golden eyes swept over them. She was obviously more powerful than all of them combined, and she _had_ to be Onmitsukido of some sort; that kind of lethal grace didn't come just from existing.

Standing beside her was a hulking man with an eyepatch, his grin not inviting at all, although that may have had something to do with the scar adorning his face. Or perhaps it was the way his hand lay twitching on his zanpakuto, like he was hoping they'd make a move against one of them. His uniform marked him as the taichou of the Eleventh, someone Kisuke had heard far too much about to be comfortable in a room with. He was just grateful they weren't alone, as he did quite fancy keeping his limbs.

The third was the one who caught his eye, though, because he'd apparently caught the man’s as well. Amber eyes were practically glued to him, testing reiatsu reaching out to him and making him flinch back. The boy - because he _was_ a boy, there was no way he was so much as a quarter of Kisuke’s age, even with how slowly aging went in Soul Society - flinched as well, bringing a sheepish hand up to run over the nape of his neck and push his hair out of the way, eyes falling from Kisuke to look back at the woman in front of them.

“Hello, boys and girls,” she practically purred. “My name is Shihoin Yoruichi, taichou of the Second Division and head of the Onmitsukido.” And all three of their eyes cut to Kisuke when he flinched at the name before she'd even stated her title.

It's not like it was exactly his fault; no one could be expected to keep calm in front of one of the most lethal creatures to ever stalk the shadows of Seireitei. The only person who could possibly worry him more was -

“Shiba Ichigo, fukutaichou of the Second Division, second in command of the Onmitsukido, supervisor of the Maggot’s Nest.”

And Kisuke’s heart very probably stopped beating as he did his best to choke down the scared little noises fighting their way up his throat. He supposed it made sense that none of the others would recognize these names, as they probably didn't have the brains necessary to sneak into Seireitei and make it back out alive, but he still marveled at how at ease they were in the presence of these people.

“Zaraki Kenpachi,” the hulking man greeted. “Taichou of the Eleventh.”

And that was all the warning they got before the man unleashed his reiatsu - certainly not all of it, Kisuke wasn't stupid enough to believe that the reiatsu of the man who regularly leveled entire _cities_ was this weak.

Thirteen of them crumpled like twigs. A tall, vicious man with an eyepatch and a bad attitude and a tiny blond girl who liked to shout and throw her sandals were the only ones who stayed standing. Kisuke… well, he could've withstood the onslaught, but there was no reason to draw attention to himself, so he fell with the rest. As soon as the man catalogued the two of them, he folded his reiatsu back in on itself, allowing the others to breathe again.

“Names,” he barked out.

“Sarugaki Hiyori,” the girl sneered, clearly not fond of the treatment.

The tall one looked Zaraki over for a long moment before his tongue came out to wet his lips as they stretched into a wide grin.

“Nnoitra Gilga,” he introduced. “Wanna fight?”

All Zaraki offered to that was a scoff, turning to raise an eyebrow at Kisuke as he picked himself up off the floor, being sure to match his pace with the others.

“Blondie,” he called. “Why'd you fall?”

Kisuke glanced around, noting that he was still the only blond in the group other than Hiyori.

“Your reiatsu was too strong to withstand, Zaraki-taichou,” he said, bowing his head and being sure to inject just enough of a tremble into his voice to be believable.

The hulking man took a slow step forward, eye boring into Kisuke.

“Do you know what it feels like to overpower someone’s reiatsu with your own, boy?” he growled.

And, yes, Kisuke did, but he certainly wasn't going to admit to having anywhere near that much power. But he knew the way it felt like a twig snapping between your fingers, like sand rushing out of a punctured bag. What he didn't know was how to fake it, which is why he'd just fallen and hoped the brute wouldn't notice one more signature.

“No, Zaraki-taichou,” he simpered.

He felt the man take another step towards him, felt the others push themselves out of his way, but just as he was tensing up to flee, Shiba’s voice rang out.

“Kenpachi,” he said exasperatedly.

Kisuke couldn't resist lifting his head to watch the man roll his eyes at Zaraki, going so far as to actually stick his tongue out at the taichou when Zaraki grinned menacingly at him. He actually almost laughed at the exchange.

“Leave him alone, I'm taking him. Unless you want a fight, old man,” Shiba taunted, flaring his reiatsu ever so slightly.

Zaraki actually started towards Shiba, but was cut off by Shihoin leaping up and throwing her legs over Zaraki’s shoulders, sitting on him like she was a child.

“Ichi-bo,” she scolded playfully. “You know the Eleventh can't afford to have their taichou out of commission.”

“That was a fluke,” Zaraki insisted, swatting at Yoruichi where she was perched atop him.

“Seven times in a row?” Shiba teased.

A scoff came from the group, one of the ones who'd fallen, probably hoping to get on Zaraki’s good side after realizing how strong he was. You could always count on a Rukongai rat to run towards shelter.

“Yeah right,” the voice called scathingly. “If you were that strong you'd be a taichou. Zaraki-sama won't let you talk shit like that.”

All three of them slowly turned to face him, Shihoin’s face a mask of pure amusement, Shiba’s full of sympathy, and Zaraki’s, strangely, absolutely furious.

“The hell did you say, punk?” he growled menacingly, giving Shihoin a hand as she stepped down off his shoulders. “That's Shiba Ichigo you're talking to there. Even if he wasn't stronger than the Soutaichou, he's my friend, and since he won't beat your ass for that comment, I'll be more than glad to.”

Shiba made a noise of dissent.

“Shunsui will make you do his paperwork for a month if he hears you saying that again,” he scolded.

Noticeably, he didn't refute the statement.

Even more noticeably, he was referring to the Soutaichou by his _first name._

Before Kisuke could continue freaking out about just how absolutely horrifyingly powerful Shiba must be to be allowed such leeway, Zaraki was stalking forward and pulling his sword out.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Shihoin pouted. “You're not destroying my walls with your stupid wind gusts from your swings. You can take your example and your new recruits outside. Take the others, too, I can't make any use of them.”

He scowled at her, but sheathed his sword and fisted his hand in the trembling man’s collar before bodily dragging him towards the door. The other two looked at Shihoin warily before following him out.

“Well,” she sighed as they made their leave. “That was quite a waste. Only three this time, and I don't even get one of them.”

Shiba’s gaze raked boredly over the group of uncertain men and women, scurrying after Zaraki. His eyes softened when they landed on Kisuke, a small smile replacing his scowl.

“I'm surprised you came this time,” he said, and it took Kisuke a second to realize Shiba was speaking to him. “I've been trying to get them to recruit you for almost a decade.”

What?

“Food is scarce in the lower districts, Shiba-sama,” he stated quietly. “I had no choice if I wished to survive.” He didn't lift his eyes from where he'd settled them politely at Shiba’s feet.

“People in the lower districts rarely have enough reiatsu to need it,” Shiba stated.

Kisuke didn't respond to that.

“May I ask how you know of me?”

“Oh, right,” Shiba laughed.

Kisuke found his eyes raising to catch a glimpse of his face lit up in mirth.

“I'd like to know as well, dear cousin,” Shihoin said teasingly.

“Yoru-nee, this is the boy who's been sneaking in every few months.”

Kisuke’s blood went absolutely icy, panicked eyes snapping up to flit nervously between the two.

“The one who stole that Asauchi?” she asked curiously, eyeing the sword at his side that he always kept casually hidden under the green haori he'd stolen long ago.

If his blood had gone cold before, it positively froze in his veins at that statement. So that's what Shiba had meant when he'd said he'd be ‘taking’ Kisuke. He was going to be slaughtered for his transgressions.

Which meant Kisuke would most definitely have to go all out if he wanted to protect himself, which would unquestionably put him on Seireitei’s radar.

“Have you talked to it yet? Your zanpakuto?” Shiba asked. “With your level of reiatsu, you have to have achieved shikai at the least.”

The glitter in Shihoin’s eyes made Kisuke very aware that she knew much more about what he was capable of than the boy did, but she didn't say anything.

“Yes, Shiba-sama. Her name is Benihime, we have achieved shikai,” he forced out.

And it _wasn't_ a lie.

“Good, I'm glad,” Shiba said, and he honestly sounded it.

Kisuke’s wary eyes raised to study the boy again, his heart slowing every so slightly in its attempt to free itself from his chest.

“Well, we can talk more about where you're at with everything tomorrow, but I figure we should spend today getting you set up at home.”

_What?_

“What?” he said out loud this time, then immediately backtracked. “I sincerely apologize, Shiba-sama, I meant to ask if you would be willing to clarify your meaning.”

Survival had always been Kisuke’s strong suit.

“Hey, calm down,” Shiba laughed, clapping him on the shoulder, but immediately pulling back when he flinched. “I didn't get your name.”

“Urahara Kisuke,” he said hesitantly.

“Is it ok if I call you Kisuke?” he asked. Actually _asked_. And then he offered, “You can call me Ichigo.”

Kisuke’s head whipped up so fast it actually twinged something in his neck, his eyes filled with absolute horror at the idea. Call a fukutaichou by his first name? Call a _noble_ by his first name?

“You don't have to,” Ichigo stammered out at seeing the look Kisuke was giving him. “Just if you want to. And if you'd prefer I call you something else, just tell me.”

Kisuke was going to panic. He was absolutely going to panic. His breath was already picking up, heart hammering once again, and then he nearly screeched when Shihoin strolled over and stopped in front of him.

“You're not going to be reprimanded for sneaking into Seireitei,” she stated, bluntly enough that Kisuke was forced to pay attention to her rather than his growing fear. “You're not going to be killed for stealing an Asauchi. Hell, knowing Ichigo, you're not going to be reprimanded for it, either. He's chosen you as his new assistant in supervising the Maggot’s Nest, as our last one transferred out after the last riot. He’s going to train you and teach you, and you'll live in his manor until you're fully trained.” She raked her gaze over him, cold and assessing. “You're strong, Blondie. You're not going to be killed. And if someone tries,” she paused, looked him over again, shrugged, “stop them.”

Shiba rolled his eyes at his cousin, then started towards the door, looking back at Kisuke with that little smile again.

“Come on, I want to get your room picked out before lunch.”

So that was Urahara Kisuke’s first day as vice-supervisor-in-training of the Maggot’s Nest, and it was just barely ten am. He had a fleeting thought that maybe starving in Rukongai would have been a better idea.


	2. Chapter 2

Kisuke’s room was two doors down from Shiba’s, mostly because the man had insisted that he be close in case of a late night emergency that he needed assistance with.

Mostly, Shiba let him be. He was always there, always sitting next to him at division meetings, always offering to share his lunch, but he never really pushed. He didn't ask about Kisuke’s life in Rukongai, and Kisuke certainly wouldn't have told him even if he had. He stopped trying to teach Kisuke about kido when he realized the blond was intentionally messing up so he wouldn't feel bad.

“Really?” he asked drily.

Kisuke tensed, which Ichigo was finding to be quite commonplace.

“I'm sorry?” Kisuke asked.

“I can feel you holding back, you know,” Shiba said, raising a challenging brow. “Do it right, or I'll leave you to learn all of it yourself.”

And, well, Kisuke already _had,_ because the sword at his side was most certainly not the only thing he'd ever stolen from Seireitei, and their textbooks were horrifyingly easy to acquire, but he supposed that wasn't something Shiba needed to know, so he put on a properly chastised expression and held his hands in front of him again. He didn't actually need his hands, nor did he need the incantation, which turned out to be a good thing, as Shiba raised his dual swords and rushed forward without hesitating.

Kisuke barely had to think for the barrier to slam up, spinning to add another to his left as Shiba changed his course. He placed two more behind him and to his right as Shiba circled him, and he very nearly returned the smirk Shiba sent him.

“Too bad, now you're all trapped,” the man crooned.

And really, as a fukutaichou, he should know better than to dictate his movements before making them, but even with the kind of terrifying speed he had, Kisuke could track him, and had plenty of time to play with his next Dankū, allowing the others to drop. Shiba was too far up to change course effectively now, anyway.

He pulled Benihime quickly, placing her in front of him and flicking her hilt, sending her spinning in a deadly cyclone in front of him. Shiba’s eyes widened, but he didn't have time to even shunpo back before Kisuke’s hand was shooting out, hand grasping the hilt of his downward facing sword firmly as he aimed the spell at his Dankū. The Tenran fired, and, just as he'd hoped, slammed into the back of his shield.

Dankū, as a spell, was meant to keep anything outside, well, out. Since it was only meant to be unmovable on one side, it was quite pliant to the force he directed at its back, sending it flying towards Shiba, slamming into him and launching him backwards into the sky. Kisuke let him fly for a few moments before allowing both spells to dissipate, watching as he stabilized his footing with reishi and stared incredulously down at Kisuke.

“You're joking, right?” the man called down, slowly lowering himself as he watched Kisuke’s face fall from smug elation to confusion. “You just fired five 80’s-level Bakudō in a row, without a chant, and modified your last one to make use of a 50’s-level Hadō, again without a chant, and you're not even _sweating.”_

He gestured impatiently at Kisuke, sheathing his zanpakuto and rubbing his hands over his face.

“I-I'm sorry, Shiba-sama,” he apologized, eyes falling to Shiba’s feet once again. “Was it inappropriate of me to do?”

“Kisuke, for fuck’s sake,” Shiba laughed. _“I_ can’t fire a Dankū without an incantation and I'm a fukutaichou. I sure as hell couldn't have improvised high level spells of different disciplines under fire like that.”

Kisuke raised his eyes warily, watching Shiba quietly. He offered the man a small, uncertain bow, when it seemed he was waiting for Kisuke to do something.

“I was giving you a compliment, Kisuke,” Shiba said drily. “That was impressive.”

Ah, that made… a lot more sense.

“Thank you, Shiba-sama.”

“Ichigo,” Shiba growled. “I know I said you didn't have to, but hearing you call me that makes me feel like an asshole. Just - I'm your partner, ok? I'm not your superior, so just, treat me like a friend.”

Kisuke stared at him in silence for a long moment before dropping his gaze once again to the man’s feet. He'd never been bothered by it before, but it made his cheeks actually flare in embarrassment to say now.

“This one has never had friends, Shib- Ichigo-sama,” he admitted softly.

And now it was Ichigo’s turn to be shocked into silence, hurt and anger flaring through him on behalf of the man in front of him, even if it was hard to tear his eyes off the soft blush across the bridge of Kisuke’s nose.

“Drop the honorifics, too,” he said gruffly, trying to swallow around his suddenly dry mouth. “You don't have to right away if it's uncomfortable or hard for you, but you're my equal.”

No, he most _definitely_ wasn't.

“Actually, you're probably a hell of a lot stronger than me and hiding it, especially considering how Yoru-nee treats you.”

That one might have been a bit more true.

“And you're coming drinking tonight, it'll just be me and Yoru-nee, we’re easy to get along with, especially when we’re drunk.”

“I couldn't presume to,” Kisuke said after a long pause, referring to everything the man had said.

“I won't force you to come tonight,” Shiba said, dropping everything else. Baby steps, he told himself. “But I'd like it if you were there. And… I'd like it if you let me get to know you better, outside of work.”

This was a terrible idea. You stayed alive by staying _alone,_ he knew that better than most. It was how he'd stayed alive for the better part of three centuries, even if they had been miserable and lonely. But…

“I'll ask you to be patient with me, Ichigo-sama,” he said softly, ducking his head back down.

When he glanced up shyly, the brilliant smile Shiba - no, Ichigo - was sending him was very nearly enough to convince him to brush aside all of his worries right then.

This was a _terrible_ idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dankū is the clear shield wall, notably used by Aizen against Tessai in his initial Hollowfication experiments. Bakudo 81.  
> Tenran is a cyclone created by the spinning on a zanpakuto in midair, notably used by Kira against Abirama Redder. Hado 58.


	3. Chapter 3

Kisuke had tasted sake exactly four times before in his life. It wasn't exactly something that was prevalent in Rukongai, and it wasn't like he had friends to share it with, so he'd very rarely bothered. 

The first time was the day after the only person he’d ever claimed as even an acquaintance had disappeared. Kisuke hadn't lied to to Ichigo when he'd said that he hadn't ever had friends. Tessai  _ could _ have been a friend, had he been around longer, had he not been slaughtered somewhere in a Rukongai back alley. Because that had to be what had happened, there was no other explanation for the stoic, outrageously powerful man’s reiatsu to just up and disappear. 

The second and third times had both been in mourning of the man as well, once on the ten year anniversary of his death, and once on the fiftieth. 

The last time had been preceded by several bottles of whatever pills had been on the counter of the low grade clinic he'd found abandoned on the outskirts of town. It hadn't done the job.

This time seemed to be an incredibly more happy occasion, Shihoin and Ichigo both tossing jokes and taunts between each other as they knocked back bowl after bowl of sake. Kisuke allowed himself to be talked into swallowing down nearly half a bottle himself, but was trying his best to refuse much more as politely as he could. Having not drunk much before in his life, it wasn't like he had a very high tolerance to it, especially the high grade stuff Shihoin had in her cabinets, and he could already feel a blush working its way across his cheeks.

“Kisuke?” Ichigo asked, pulling him out of his memories. “Are you ok?”

Kisuke nodded, ducking his head.

“Yes, Ichigo-sama, this one is fine,” he said quietly. “I am merely unaccustomed to alcohol, much more so alcohol this strong.”

Shihoin laughed, loudly and freely, shifting half drunkenly in her seat, causing the loose kimono she had on to fall open even further. She noticed that he averted his eyes politely, but didn't blush and stutter and try to sneakily catch a glimpse like most men did. 

However, when Ichigo leaned over with a teasing grin, insistently pouring the blond more sake, and  _ his  _ kimono fell open, Kisuke’s face flamed, his eyes staying glued to the shadow of Ichigo’s abs for just a second too long before looking hastily away.

And wasn't that cute?

Kisuke accepted the fresh cup, sipping at it gently, keeping his eyes firmly on the table as he tried to beat back his blush. There was only so much he could blame on the liquor.

“Ichigo, stop flirting with the poor boy, you're embarrassing him.”

Now there were  _ two  _ blushing faces, both of them stuttering out denials and refusing to look at each other. She cackled heartily.

“Shihoin-sama, please do not say such things,” he pleaded. “It could be damaging to Ichigo-sama’s reputation.”

This time, Ichigo joined in on the laughter, reaching out like he was going to clap Kisuke on the shoulder before stopping himself. 

“Kisuke, if I had a reputation, it would be in tatters,” Ichigo chuckled.

“Ichigo is known for completely ignoring all customs and rules of politeness, something like that won't make him flinch,” Shihoin agreed. “And besides, I can hardly see how having a cute thing like yourself hanging off him could be damaging to his reputation.”

And Kisuke's face was on  _ fire _ . How the hell did she just say things like that?

“Now who's embarrassing him, Yoru-nee?” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Kisuke, she likes to try to set me up with every cute guy she comes across.”

Ah, so the boy was probably gay? Not that it bothered Kisuke at all, for obvious reasons, though it usually wasn't openly spoken of in royal families. 

“Even so, it would be highly inappropriate,” he said. It was the liquor loosening his tongue and making him talk, damnit. “I am several hundred years older than you, and your subordinate. Not to mention the circumstances of my birth.”

Both of them quieted their laughter after he finished speaking, and when he looked up to see the sympathy on Shihoin’s face, and the cold anger on Ichigo’s his soft smile dropped immediately. 

“Kisuke,” Ichigo said softly, before he could begin stammering an apology. “I told you, you're my equal. No matter your bloodline or where you were born, you're an elite member of the Onmitsukido. And you're strong.” He leveled Kisuke with a hard stare before blushing and dropping it. “Besides, I could do a hell of a lot worse for a partner.”

Kisuke was silent for a long time, mouth working uselessly as his cheeks flamed vibrantly. He settled on just reaching for the sake, pouring himself a nearly overflowing cup.

He had a feeling he'd need a drink or ten to get through the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Tessai's not dead he'll show up at some point I love him too much to let him die.  
> Also I'm sorry this is short and maybe not great? And I didn't have the energy to edit it so I'm sorry for any mistakes I promise I'll fix them later. My brain is fighting me and I've got a lot of stuff going on lmao but I hope you enjoy it anyway!


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Kisuke  _ really  _ questioned just what the hell Ichigo was up to was about a month and a half into his new position. The man had always been a bit… off, but Shihoin had regularly assured him that it was entirely common for him, that he didn't like to cooperate with social norms and rules. 

It began when he started taking shifts in the Maggot’s Nest alone. Shihoin had been trading off shifts with Ichigo, who had been accompanying Kisuke to get him used to how things ran. Shihoin had decided that he was ready to take over a full shift by himself, and had assigned another - Soi Fon, a sort of apprentice to her - to take the third shift. 

Ichigo had been increasingly nosy and clingy, asking Kisuke how his shift was every day, offering help if he needed it. He waited for Kisuke after work on some days, offering to share a meal with him, or asking for a spar. Kisuke never indulged him in the spars - there was no reason for anyone to know exactly how powerful he was, and considering Ichigo’s strength, he might even have to pull everything out to handle him - and only accepted the dinner invitation once, when Shihoin had come along and insisted on his presence.

But this… this was by far the oddest Ichigo had behaved in the time Kisuke had known him. 

As a requirement to supervise the Maggot’s Nest, one had to be able to defeat all occupants barehanded, without assistance. Small arguments and scuffles broke out daily, but full scale riots were not anywhere near uncommon either. This was just the first one Kisuke had been present for. 

It had clearly been pre-planned, starting the moment he reached the middle of the room to begin his rounds. Five inmates had jumped out at him, all going for different weak spots on the body, immediately followed by a horde of nearly thirty others. By the time they realized that Kisuke was, in fact, not lying broken and bloody under the pile of flailing limbs, but had shunpoed out of the way before they got close to even touching his uniform, they'd all bloodied each other up quite nicely. 

The reserves that had been hiding in the shadows had all bolted back to the common space, as far away from Kisuke as they could manage. He'd given them all his customary smile and bland greeting, completed his shift, and left them to Soi Fon. As was protocol, he reported it to Shihoin.

Just as he was finishing his paperwork, Ichigo burst into the office they shared frantically, the door slamming into the wall loudly. Kisuke had felt him coming, of course, and had catalogued but not paid attention to the unrest in his reiatsu - the boy’s emotions were no business of his. His head popped up, surprised, pushing out of his chair as he took in the look of sheer panic on Ichigo’s face.

“Ichigo-sama, is everything alright?” he asked quickly, reaching to unstrap his zanpakuto in case it was an emergency at the Maggot's Nest.

“Are you ok?” Ichigo rushed out breathlessly, moving forward and reaching out for him. 

He caught himself just before he made contact, clenching his fists and bringing them down to his sides, settling for raking his gaze intently over Kisuke.

“Yes?” Kisuke said hesitantly. “Is there a reason I would not be?”

Ichigo stared at him incredulously, a disbelieving laugh falling from his lips.

“There was a riot,” he said like that explained everything. 

“Yes,” Kisuke agreed. 

“So you're ok?” Ichigo asked after a long moment of silence. “They didn't land a hit on you or hurt you or anything?”

“Of course not, Shiba-sama,” Kisuke replied smoothly, unconsciously reverting back to Ichigo’s last name. “This one is not so weak as to allow himself to be overtaken by half trained criminals.”

Ichigo swallowed hard, taking half a step back with a wince.

“I didn't mean it like that, Kisuke,” he said softly. “I was just worried about you. I know you’re fully capable of doing your job, but that doesn't mean I don't worry about you.”

Kisuke tilted his head to the side, staring down questioningly at Ichigo. 

“I don't quite understand why you would be worried if you have faith in my capabilities, Shiba-sama,” he said slowly.

“Because you're my friend.”

And he said it so firmly, so unquestioningly, that Kisuke had no choice but to accept it. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said awkwardly, clearing his throat and looking away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. “Look, do you want to come to Yoru-nee’s for a drink once you're finished? She said she had someone she wanted you to meet, something about developing your kido further. And,” he paused, blushed further, “I’d also really like it if you came.”

And, well, it was really quite difficult to say no to Ichigo anyway, but when he looked at Kisuke like that, something in the blond wavered, and he found himself nodding slowly.

“That would be enjoyable, Ichigo-sama,” he agreed quietly. “I will be able to complete this in the next half hour, if you would like to inform Shihoin-sama.”

Ichigo laughed and waved him off. 

“I'll stay and help, then it'll only take fifteen minutes.”

With that, Ichigo had plopped himself down in his own desk next to Kisuke’s, and was grabbing half the stack of papers on the blond’s desk with a grin. Kisuke refrained from shaking his head, taking his own seat. 

Might as well get this done. Ichigo had a habit of making him want a drink.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short cause I'm getting on a plane to go back home, but I'll be back to writing regularly when I'm home!


	5. Chapter 5

Kisuke sat stiffly, spine ramrod straight as he did his best not to move. Ichigo had gotten into a drinking competition with Shihoin, and had lost. Severely. 

He was currently slumped against the closest thing to him in order to stay mostly upright, which just so happened to be Kisuke’s shoulder. And waist. And thigh.

Shihoin was laughing, both at Ichigo’s loss and the blush no doubtedly flaming across Kisuke’s cheeks as he stared down at the table, trying desperately to think of a way to get the redhead off of him. Having him so close was disconcerting to say the least.

Not only was Kisuke entirely unused to physical contact outside of a fight - and even then, it was a rare occurrence for someone to actually manage to lay a hand on him - but he also didn't like the way that he didn't seem to want to push the man off. Normally, he'd have been repulsed, unnerved, wary, thinking of a thousand ways someone in this position could kill him, or a thousand ways he could kill them. 

Instead, he found himself restraining himself from wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders, brushing a hand through hair that he knew felt as soft as it looked, because it was brushing lightly against his throat. He swallowed harshly, forcing his hands to keep still in his lap, glancing up at Shihoin almost pleadingly. There was no way to dislodge Ichigo without breaking almost every rule of conduct he'd ever known, and there was also no way that Ichigo was actually going to sit up and dislodge himself.

Just as Kisuke resigned himself to that fact, the boy stiffened slightly as a flare of reiatsu brushed them, signaling someone being let into the house, then shifted and pulled himself back to a fully seated position. The only indicator of his intoxication now was the warm flush high on his cheeks, but his eyes were alert again.

“Ichi-bo, you know you don't have to be so wary around him,” Shihoin chuckled, leaning back on her hands. 

“It's polite,” Ichigo responded sharply. At his cousin’s amused smirk, he added, “And the guy kind of scares me, ok? You can't blame me for being careful around someone that strong.”

“Oh?” Shihoin drew out teasingly, leaning forward over the table and grinning wickedly. “I don't see you being so cautious around  _ Kisuke  _ here.”

Ichigo spluttered, shoulders hunching as he looked anywhere but at Kisuke. He glared at her, but was saved from having to stammer out a response as a quiet knock sounded on the door.

Kisuke’s brows furrowed as he tried to feel for the person’s reiatsu, finding next to nothing, and certainly nothing distinguishable. Someone with so little power should have no place near the head of the Shihoin house - even the servants in the house had significant reiatsu reserves. Hell, even some of the souls he’d been around in Rukongai had more than whoever this was. 

Then Shihoin called out for them to come in, and the door slid open, and Kisuke's mouth dropped open.

A hulking tower of a man was bowing his way into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Kisuke couldn't stamp down the flare of surprised reiatsu when he caught a confirming glimpse of the man’s face.

And if that hadn't been enough, the way the man stiffened as soon as he felt it, the way his own carefully muted reiatsu lashed out for just a second, well, that would've been more than enough to prove him right.

“Tessai-san,” he said softly, not trusting his voice to stay steady if he spoke any louder. “It's been quite some time.”

Tessai turned slowly, face impassive as usual, but his gaze was sorrowful, repentant, with disbelieving happiness mixed in.

“Urahara-dono,” Tessai answered.

Kisuke flinched at the man’s way of referring to him, but he didn't comment on it, knowing he spoke that way to everyone he respected. And he was more than happy to be respected by Tsukabishi Tessai, by far the most advanced kido user he'd ever met, or even heard of. Even if he was only so advanced because of the textbooks Kisuke had stolen and shared with him.

“Nearly a century.”

Kisuke didn't bother to correct him, knowing that Tessai was downplaying because of their company, that he could probably tell Kisuke the number of hours it had been. Not because they were so important to each other as to count them, but simply because Tessai was too observant not to know.

“You two know each other?” Ichigo asked, yes flicking rapidly back and forth between the two.

Shihoin, however, was leaning back on one hand, nursing her sake with a smug little smirk, like she'd figured it all out and set it up herself. Which she probably had. Really, the woman was so meddlesome.

“Yes, Ichigo-sama,” Kisuke said carefully, just barely glancing off to the side even though he knew how absurdly rude it was not to look at a noble while speaking to them. “We lived in close proximity to each other in Rukongai. We would often steal food to share, as it was safer to take as little as possible.”

Tessai nodded in agreement, moving forward and kneeling in seiza at the cushion left open for him, on Kisuke's left. 

“I thought you said you’d never had friends?” Ichigo asked, trying desperately to smother the irrational flare of jealousy. 

It wasn't like he had dibs on Kisuke, or had any right to question him on his life prior to coming here. If he'd lied about it, there was almost certainly a very good reason for it. 

Ichigo had found that Kisuke preferred honesty, but had no problem bending the truth a little, or leaving out a few details to make something more appetizing. He just preferred not to outright lie.

“I did not, Ichigo-sama,” Kisuke agreed. “Tessai-san and I were merely acquaintances. We only knew each other for a mere two months before he disappeared. I had assumed he was dead.”

Tessai bowed his head apologetically, but did not say anything, knowing Kisuke would have already understood that he had been brought in as part of the Omnitsukido and would have been ordered to keep a low profile about it. He couldn't have told Kisuke he was leaving without the man figuring everything out, so he'd just left.

Ichigo, on the other hand, was trying to affect an appropriate look while firmly ignoring the part of him that was purring smugly at the thought off Kisuke being  _ his. _ Which was a staggering exaggeration. Kisuke was not his, the man was not anyone’s. He very probably didn't even think of Ichigo as anything more than a superior - even though they were technically equals, the man refused to accept it - much less actually consider him a friend.

“I am pleased you have found friends now,” Tessai said with a soft smile nearly hidden by his moustache. “And I hope we will be able to see each other more often. Shihoin-dono asked me if I would assist you in fine tuning your kido abilities.”

Shihoin-dono. So he'd probably gotten much the same talk about honorifics and familiarity that Kisuke had. Well, that was about as familiar as Tessai got. It was his equivalent of calling you by your first name, and he had a feeling Shihoin, at least, knew that.

“I am pleased as well,” Kisuke agreed. “Ichigo-sama has been very kind to me. Shihoin-sama as well.”

Ichigo stiffened, hope flaring warmly in his chest. So perhaps Kisuke did think of him as a friend, or as close to one as the reclusive man would allow himself. He'd take it, even if it was said in a very ambiguous way. Reaching for his sake, he hid his smile behind it, glaring at his cousin when she grinned knowingly at him.

“And I would be honored to work with you in sharpening my kido skills, Tessai-san. You are the best I’ve ever seen, after all,” he said with a small, honest grin.

“Only because of your guidance,” Tessai answered with a grin of his own.

“Because of the books, not because of me,” Kisuke corrected.

“Huh?” 

Kisuke turned back to look at Ichigo, the redhead’s stomach tightening as he saw that soft, warm grin directed at him. What he wouldn't give to kiss that grin right off his lips, leave him breathless and shocked and staring at him with big silvery eyes. 

Then that look turned sheepish, maybe even a little scared, and Kisuke dropped his gaze down to the table.

“I stole several textbooks on kido and bakudo on one of my excursions into Seireitei,” he admitted softly.

Shihoin laughed loudly, reaching forward and pouring herself more sake.

“Excursions, huh?” she chuckled. “You'll have to show me how you got in, one day. Out of curiosity.” 

“There is a gap in patrols by the end of the Eleventh’s barracks, as well as one just past the Fourth. The Eleventh is much safer, as their captain is less cautious, and does not regularly search for foreign reiatsu,” he said quickly.

“Kisuke,” Ichigo chuckled exasperatedly, not catching the way Tessai’s eyebrows winged up at the familiarity the blond was allowing. “You're the only person who’d willingly risk the Eleventh, and Ken, for a few books and a sword.”

There was laughter in his eyes, soft and kind and friendly, and Kisuke found himself laughing softly along with him.

“I can't blame him,” Shihoin interjected with a grin. “I'd choose fighting Zaraki over Unohana any day of the week.”

Ichigo shuddered dramatically, and Kisuke added this Unohana to his list of people to be wary of. Obviously, all of the captains were strong enough to ensure that he kept his back well guarded, but if both Shihoin and Ichigo were clearly acknowledging her strength, she must be a force to be reckoned with.

“Wait,” Ichigo said suddenly, turning playfully narrowed eyes on Kisuke. He paused to let the man stiffen in wariness, then force the tension to drain from his body. “You said you stole books on kido and bakudo.” 

Kisuke nodded slowly, swallowing hard.

“Yes.”

“So does that mean you already knew the ones I was ‘teaching’ you a while ago?” he asked lowly, a grin playing on his lips.

Kisuke blushed, his eyes widening for half a second as he took in a shark breath.

“I - I had read the books, and tried them at least once,” he admitted, shifting in his seat. “But the practice against an opponent was very beneficial.”

“Uh huh,” Ichigo said blandly. “Just let me know next time when I'm severely outclassed.”

Shihoin lugged raucously, even Tessai offering a small chuckle.

“I apologize, Ichigo-sama,” he said softly, but gave Ichigo an uncertain grin. 

“No need,” Ichigo waved it off. 

He probably would've continued to apologize had Shihoin not turned the topic around, letting Kisuke off the hook for most of the conversation. 

Tessai left quietly when midnight rolled around, promising to see Kisuke soon. Shihoin kicked them out a little after one.

Ichigo had a pretty flush across his cheeks from the alcohol, and Kisuke knew his face was warm as well.

“Let me walk you home,” Ichigo insisted, staring up at Kisuke so intently that the man had to look away.

“Ichigo-sama, I live in your manor,” he reminded the man softly.

“Right!” Ichigo said brightly, laughing to himself. “Let's go home then.” He paused for a second, looking at Kisuke softly, with a kind of warmth that made Kisuke’s stomach tighten. His smile was near blinding, making Kisuke’s breath catch in his chest in the strangest of ways. “I like the sound of that,” he grinned. “Let's go home, Kisuke.”

Their walk home was quiet as they listened to the crickets and watched the stars. Kisuke couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this at ease with someone near him. Or even this at ease at all.

They stepped through the doors, Ichigo reaching past him to close them softly, brushing against the blond’s chest. Neither of them stepped back when Ichigo glanced up.

And he was tempted, he was so, so tempted to just wind his hand in that messy blond hair and just pull Kisuke down and kiss him breathless. But he behaved, swallowing hard and resolutely ignoring the blush on his face, although he couldn't take his eyes off the pink coloring Kisuke’s.

And their rooms were right down the hall, so he turned and made his way towards his, feeling Kisuke at his back, heading towards his own. It was nice having him so close, even if he very much wished Kisuke was following him into his room to fall into bed with him.

“Good night, Kisuke,” he said quietly, shooting the man a small smile as he reached his own door.

Kisuke pulled his door open, his blush wild on his face as he just barely managed to make eye contact.

“Good night, Ichigo-san,” he said quickly, rushing into his room and closing the door as fast as he could without slamming it.

Ichigo felt his hand slip on the door handle, his breath catching in his chest. A smile that almost hurt spread across his face, his eyes going hazy as he replayed the words over in his head. 

Ichigo- _ san. _

Maybe he was getting closer to Kisuke than he'd thought. 

Maybe, just maybe, he'd actually have some sort of chance with the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very long. And very soft.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long one boys and girls and anyone else who's reading this including the possible lizard people. But it's good so read it

Ichigo awoke the next morning cocooned under soft blankets, the sunlight just starting to creep into his room, providing a pleasant sort of warmth he just wanted to bask in.

He was also incredibly lonely.

For once, he was alone in the house. Kisuke would have just started his shift, he had no servants to speak of, and Yoruichi wasn't kicking him out of his bed and forcing him to train with her.

He’d dreamt of Kisuke, of walking home with him, of seeing that gorgeous, unashamed smile he'd only ever seen once, of kissing him softly in a bed they shared. Of things he knew he'd never have.

Ichigo hadn't thought he was that deep in, though. He'd assumed all it was was a passing crush, an infatuation that he'd get over in time as he got to know Kisuke and hammered it into his head that the man was _not_ interested. Because he wasn't, obviously.

It's not like Ichigo was as oblivious as people thought he was. He knew when someone had a crush on him, it was just easier to play dumb. But Kisuke most definitely didn't have any feelings for him. He knew the signs, the way Kisuke always kept him at arm’s length, avoided keeping eye contact for too long, the way he shifted out of the way whenever Ichigo went to touch him.

He'd decided that he'd settle for friendship, for knowing the man who'd so fully enchanted him and filled his mind for all these years. Ichigo would take what he could get, hope that Kisuke would come to see him as a friend eventually, and that would be all he asked for.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Kisuke just wanted to _think_ , dammit. He'd woken up and crawled out of bed, brushed the leftover taste of alcohol from his teeth, and berated himself over and over for his behavior last night towards Ichigo.

He'd been far too forward, too familiar, too casual. Tessai had given him several questioning looks at his peculiar behavior. They'd only known each other for a mere few months, but it wasn't difficult to pick up on the way Kisuke kept people as far away as possible.

And it wasn't difficult to pick up on the way he let Ichigo in so easily, either.

Ichigo had slowly relaxed as they drank more, and as Tessai stayed mostly silent, and soon Kisuke had found himself with a mostly drunk Ichigo leaning against him, once again.

Which he hadn't discouraged.

Hell, he hadn't even leaned away from the man, had barely stiffened at the initial contact. He had even gone so far as to pour the man more sake and hold the bowl to his lips when Ichigo whined about not wanting to move his arms.

And then he'd gone on to be so casual with the way he addressed Ichigo as they prepared for bed.

Kisuke had only ever referred to Tessai so informally, but to speak that way to someone of noble standing was unfathomable, even considering how much he'd had to drink.

Either way, he'd need to apologize heartily when he next saw the man, which would most likely be in four hours, when his shift ended and Soi Fon came to relieve him.

Ichigo had made a habit of retrieving him after his shift if he could manage it, insisting on walking him home and having lunch or dinner with him, or simply wishing him goodnight, depending on what shifts they both worked.

Well, he'd wait until they got home to make his apology, as he knew such a public display would embarrass Ichigo.

He didn't need to add humiliating the boy to the growing list of mistakes he was making.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ichigo was not waiting for him when his shift ended, something which made lead settle in his gut, both in fear that he'd severely messed up, and, oddly, in disappointment. He supposed he'd grown used to seeing Ichigo’s bright hair and brighter smile as he ended his work day.

He swallowed his trepidation and started his walk home. It was odd to have a place that he honestly considered home, a guaranteed roof over his head, food that he didn't have to steal, the only person he'd ever considered a friend not fifty feet away.

But he tried not to think about it too much, tried to simply be grateful for the opportunity Ichigo had given him. However, times like this, when he was swallowing hard and squaring his shoulders before he entered the house, wondering if his misstep had led him straight off the solid ground he'd been standing on, it was a bit difficult.

Ichigo was not in the day room, or the kitchen, as he so often was in his free time. Kisuke also did not find him lounging in the library, a pile of books around him, nor did he find the boy basking in the pleasant warmth under the shadows of his favorite sakura tree in the garden.

Kisuke allowed his reiatsu to flare slightly, searching for Ichigo’s. He was surprised to find the man still in his room, even this late in the day. Perhaps he was ill?

He found himself making his way towards Ichigo’s bedroom door, stopping sharply as he saw his hand reaching for the door. What the _hell_ was he thinking?

And then the door slid open, revealing a yawning Ichigo, with his blanket thrown over his shoulders like a cape. His hair was a mess, like he'd just gotten out of bed, and he looked incredibly cozy and soft, and Kisuke had a crazy urge to run his fingers through that hair.

“Kisuke?” Ichigo rumbled sleepily. “What time is it?”

Kisuke stumbled for a moment, trying to force his tongue to work past his… whatever the hell was going on inside his brain today.

“Just past noon, Ichigo-sama,” he answered.

“Back to -sama then, huh?” Ichigo murmured under his breath. “Sorry I wasn't there to walk you home, I wasn't feeling great this morning.”

“Are you ill, Ichigo-sama?” Kisuke asked hurriedly, brushing off the first part of his statement, mostly because he had no idea how to respond. “Should I fetch a doctor?”

Ichigo laughed softly, a lyrical little sound, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“No, Kisuke, I'm ok, I was just lonely and feeling sad for myself,” Ichigo assured him. “I'm alright now.”

“Oh,” Kisuke said after a long pause. Ichigo had a habit of making him unsure of his responses. “I could send for Shihoin-sama, if you wish for company. Or your sisters, or perhaps your fukutaicho friend from the Sixth?”

Ichigo gave him nothing but a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, not quite meeting his eyes.

“I'm ok,” he repeated. “Lets just sit and eat, ok?”

Ichigo made to walk past him, but Kisuke’s hand shot out to stop him. He actually almost _grabbed a noble._

“I'm sorry, Ichigo-sama, I did not mean -”

“Kisuke,” Ichigo cut him off, voice fondly exasperated. “You don't have to apologize for everything. I won't get mad if you touch me. Hell, I probably won't get all that mad even if you hit me.” And Kisuke looked like he was about to faint right then at the suggestion, so Ichigo gave him a soft laugh. “Did you need something before we eat?”

“Ichigo-sama, I -” Kisuke stopped himself, taking in a shaky breath. Why was he so off kilter around this boy? “I wanted to apologize for my behavior and my familiarity with how I spoke to you last night.”

“You've been living and working with me for nearly half a year, I hardly think you using -san instead of -sama is overly familiar, Kisuke,” Ichigo snapped at him. “And I've told you a million times that you don't have to use honorifics at all. Besides,” he continued over Kisuke’s protests, “if anyone was overly familiar last night, it was me. I'm sorry for hanging off of you like that, I - I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

Kisuke shook his head, immediately dismissing the idea.

“You were drunk, Ichigo-sama.”

“You were too,” Ichigo fired back.

“It was still rude of me, my behavior was far too intimate and familiar with you, considering our respective standings,” Kisuke argued.

“Oh, fuck our standings,” Ichigo spat with a vehemence that made Kisuke actually flinch back from the man. “You think that was intimate and familiar? I’ll fucking show you intimate and familiar.”

And then Ichigo’s hand was fisted in his collar, and he was being drug down with a strength that surprised Kisuke. But what surprised him far, far more was the mouth now pressed against his, just a firm, dry, almost angry press of lips against Kisuke’s own. Before Kisuke could even half register what was happening, that Ichigo’s mouth was on his, that he was being _kissed_ by _Shiba Ichigo,_ the boy’s mouth was gone, his fingers releasing the blond’s collar, leaving Kisuke to nearly stumble forward. He was shocked, off balance, uncentered.

And his lips were tingling.

“Fuck,” Ichigo whispered, looking up at Kisuke in nothing short of abject horror. “Fuck, I'm sorry.”

And with that he was gone, nearly tripping over his blanket to rush back into his room, shoving the door closed and breaking Kisuke’s shocked gaze from his face.

Kisuke was left to bring shaky fingers to his lips, where he could still feel the harsh pressure of Ichigo’s mouth. Where he wanted to feel it again.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop there it is  
> Now what the hell do I do


	7. Chapter 7

Kisuke didn't see Ichigo for more than a minute in the next two days, and the boy refused to make eye contact or speak a single word to him. He traded shifts with Soi Fon so that he wouldn't bump into Kisuke coming or going, and when he was home, he was always locked in his room.

Of course, Kisuke could sympathize with him, but it was also oddly painful to be away from him for so long, like he was being pushed to the side. It took him all of forty eight hours to find himself in front of Shihoin’s door, awkwardly shifting his weight as he waited for the runner to return and either lead him in or turn him away.

With the way things were going for him lately, he didn't have much hope that he'd be let in.

Nonetheless, the nondescript man draped in all black appeared soon enough and ushered him inside, closing the door tightly behind him. He was led straight through the house and outside, entering what looked like a training ground. They reached what Kisuke assumed was their destination, and the runner actually bowed to him before making his way back to his post, leaving Kisuke blinking after him in shock.

“Kisuke!” Shihoin called out, her rich voice echoing off the buildings.

He looked up to find her perched lazily atop one of the roofs, wearing a sleeveless shihakusho and a wicked grin.

“Shihoin-sama,” he answered respectfully, bowing low at the waist.

He snapped up when he felt her begin to move, finding her in front of him not a second later. While he may have trusted her to a point because of her relation to Ichigo, he most definitely did not trust her anywhere near his exposed neck.

“Here for council from the wisest in the land?” she asked teasingly, but her eyes made it clear that she didn't miss his protective gesture.

“Um,” he answered dumbly. “I know it is entirely out of my station, and I have no right to pry in such a way, but I wondered if I might ask your advice in handling a situation.”

Shihoin rolled her eyes at his long winded and overly polite explanation.

“I assume this has to do with my cousin?” she mused, lazing back against a pillar, half shrouded in shadow.

“Yes, Shihoin-sama,” he admitted tightly. “We had an altercation.”

Her brows winged up at that, arms that were propped behind her head coming to cross over her chest.

“You fought?” she clarified.

“I believe so.” He scratched at his head uncomfortably. “He was upset with me, and I now see that we argued, and then - ah, well, he's not speaking to me now.”

“So not physically, then.”

“Of course not, Shihoin-sama,” Kisuke answered, entirely aghast at the proposition. “I would never lay a hand on Ichigo-san, and I don't believe he would intentionally harm me, either.”

Shihoin’s grin spread over her face, sharp and pleased.

“Ichigo _-san,_ huh?” she pointed out lazily.

The blood drained from Kisuke's face fast enough that it left him light headed, the nerves that had begun to fade away starting up again, squirming in his stomach. Before he even had a chance to explain, or apologize, Shihoin was continuing with a yawn.

“So what was your fight about? And what part of this little altercation are you leaving out?” she questioned, brow raised.

Kisuke shifted nervously, glancing away from her before he began speaking. 

“I attempted to apologize for the way I behaved when we last drunk together, with Shihoin-sama and Tessai-san,” he explained, not quite meeting her eyes. “Ichigo-sama,” he continued, stressing the honorific, “was upset with me for apologizing and said I'd done nothing wrong. I reminded him of our respective standings, and he became more agitated.”

Shihoin stared at him for a long moment, clearly waiting for him to continue. That was all he would give her though. He wouldn't risk Ichigo’s reputation just to get some advice.

“How long is it going to take you to tell me he kissed you?” she asked boredly.

Kisuke actually choked on the air, swallowing harshly as he fought back a cough, blinking, shocked at Shihoin’s boldness. And wondering how the hell she knew.

“Do remember that Ichigo is my cousin,” Shihoin reminded him. “And that the two of us are very close. He told me the moment you left for work the next morning.”

Kisuke just spluttered at her, having no idea what to say to that. And then the realization came to him that the two of them _were_ close, and that Shihoin would very probably not hesitate to inform Ichigo of his questioning.

“I - I apologize, Shihoin-sama, I'll take my leave,” he stumbled out, bowing clumsily. “I apologize for the intrusion.”

“Suit yourself,” she told him lazily, inspecting her nails. “But are you certain you don't want to hear what he had to say about you?”

That did cause him to freeze, picking his head all the way up and staring at her warily. She took that as the invitation it was, plopping herself down, cross legged, still leaning against the pillar.

“He kissed you because he was upset and confused and lonely,” she informed him bluntly. “And also because he's at least half in love with you, although he’ll never admit it until you make a move. He thinks you’re not interested, and that you might have had some traumas in your past that have made you wary of close relationships.” Her eyes nailed him to the ground where he stood. “Obviously, he's only right about one of those things, since you're half in love with him as well.”

She rolled her eyes at Kisuke’s spluttered denials, letting him babble for a moment before shutting him up.

“Do you want to know how to fix it?”

Kisuke was silent and still for a long moment, but he met her eyes and nodded hesitantly, still not entirely convinced she wasn't going to punish him somehow for daring to have feelings for Ichigo. Because he'd realized that's what this was, a while ago. He'd realized that the sinking disappointment when he upset the boy wasn't the way he felt with anyone else, and the thrill he got every time Ichigo smiled at him was something that only he inspired.

“My personal advice would be to march into his room and fuck him senseless, god knows he needs it,” Shihoin said with a roll of golden eyes. “But you don't strike me as quite that bold, so your best bet is probably just to tell him, straight out. He's too dumb to understand if you use any metaphors or try to leave him hints, so just tell him that you like him and want to be with him and kiss him stupid.”

Kisuke’s face was burning, both at the implications of a sexual relationship with Ichigo and just because he was embarrassed at not knowing how the hell to pursue it. He nodded slowly, not being able to think of anything else to do.

“Thank you, Shihoin-sama,” he said slowly.

This didn't quite give him a plan, but he supposed it gave him a starting point to form one.

“You're gonna have to call me Yoruichi when you marry into the family, you know,” she said blandly, letting out a raucous laugh at the way his cheeks flamed. “Go seduce my cousin.”

And by now, Kisuke was certain that his cheeks were permanently red, but he nodded stiffly and started to make his way back to the house.

“Kisuke,” she called out.

He turned, blush beginning to fade, and looked at her questioningly. Her smile this time was predatory and threatening, no trace of the laid back woman he'd come to know.

“I’m sure the prisoners you guard in the Maggot’s Nest would love to get their hands on you with your reiatsu sealed,” she said sweetly. “Just keep that in mind if you ever hurt my cousin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm gonna end this as just a little love story rather than adding any plot in, cause I don't wanna take away from this.


	8. Chapter 8

Kisuke steeled himself valiantly as he made the trek home, knowing that with Ichigo’s modified schedule he'd probably make it home just before the boy did. His mind was whirring with a million different possibilities, a million different ways to start a conversation, a million different ways he could fuck this up.

By the time he made it to the entrance of the wing of the Shiba manor he and Ichigo stayed in, he'd worked himself into a frenzy, but he'd also decided on - and fully scripted, all the way down to the big kiss at the end - his course of conversation.

And then he opened the door, and all of that careful planning flew right out of his brain.

Because there was Ichigo, clearly home early, kneeling in seiza in a light yukata at the low dining table.

“Kisuke,” the boy said tightly, clearly going for casual and missing by a mile. “Would you sit with me for a while? I made tea.”

Kisuke could smell it. It was his favorite blend, dark and heady and almost woody. It wasn't one Ichigo liked.

“Of course,” he said, and then added, very carefully, very deliberately, “Ichigo-san.”

Ichigo startled a bit, the tea sloshing against the side of the cup as he poured it instead falling in a steady stream, but he didn't comment on it as he passed Kisuke the cup, nudging the sugar toward him.

“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” Ichigo started hesitantly, his eyes trained firmly on his hands where they sat in his lap.

“As did I,” Kisuke said lightly.

He wanted to make it very clear that he had things to say, while also not making it hard for Ichigo to speak freely.

“I'd like it if you let me speak first,” Ichigo said slowly. “I think we’ll probably be saying the same things, so it'll be easier this way.”

Kisuke spooned sugar into his tea, stirred, nodded at Ichigo to continue.

“First I want to apologize,” Ichigo said, voice much stronger, finally looking Kisuke in the eyes. “And I don't want you to say anything about our standings or who should be apologizing or anything. I was rude, and I should apologize. It,” he paused, looking back down to his hands. “It was a mistake, and I shouldn't have put you in a position like that, especially since I know you probably wouldn't push me away, because you'd probably think it would be rude and inappropriate for you to deny me, and I should never have…”

Ichigo’s words faded away as the ringing in Kisuke’s ears started rising in volume. His hand shook as he set his cup back down in the saucer, shock running through him. His entire body felt empty, almost weightless, in the worst possible way, like he'd been thoroughly hollowed out.

“Kisuke?” Ichigo's worried voice broke through, snapping his attention back to the boy in front of him.

Kisuke clearly wasn't fast enough to hide the hurt, the shock, the pain in his gaze as he looked back at Ichigo, and he saw the boy’s mouth fall open in confusion. This was his cue to run. This was his cue to paste on a smile and pretend that he heartily agreed with Ichigo, to blabber on for minutes without saying anything of substance, to throw up that facade that he'd so carefully crafted for centuries.

He started to. He opened his mouth, forcing it into an empty grin, started to agree with the boy and tell him he was glad it was cleared up.

And then he snapped his mouth shut again. He'd done nothing but run his entire life, nothing but dance away and drape the world in pretty words he didn't believe and keep everyone and everything at arm’s length. He was tired of it. He was tired of being _alone._ And he didn't have to be.

He wanted to say all of that, wanted to pour his heart into Ichigo’s hands and hope against hope that it wouldn't be crushed, wanted to give himself over entirely and allow himself to feel for once.

“Please don't lie to me, Ichigo,” was what came out of his mouth.

And Ichigo sat, stunned, not knowing what to react to first. The bare honesty on Kisuke’s face, the face he'd only ever seen masked in carefree, empty cheer? The longing in those silver eyes that so rarely caught on his? The words that he'd uttered? Or the fact that Kisuke had just called him by his first name?

He tried to work out words, tried to say something, anything, but Kisuke beat him to it.

“I spoke to - to Yoruichi-sama,” he said, making the effort to listen to the both of them, “because I couldn't stand not talking to you. I asked her how I was supposed to fix this when you wouldn't look at me, when you'd switched your shifts so that we didn't even see each other in passing anymore.” He shifted closer, boldly grabbing one of Ichigo’s hands, thankful that the boy seemed to be shaking just as badly as he was. “And she told me that I couldn't hint, couldn't leave you clues, that I had to say it outright. And I'm very bad at being completely open and forthcoming, especially in matters of the heart.”

Ichigo’s breath hitched, half a laugh and half a gasp, his fingers twisting to twine with Kisuke's.

“Yeah, you are,” he agreed, voice breathy with relief.

“While I think you've caught on without me having to say it out loud, I'd rather not run the risk of losing you,” Kisuke rushed out, cheeks flaring. He brought Ichigo’s hand up to his mouth, brushing a kiss over his knuckles, mostly to buy time to settle his racing heart. “I don't know anything about being in a romantic relationship. I am very bad at trusting other people. I still worry about affecting your reputation, and what people might say about you. But, regardless, if you'll have me, I'd like to learn about all of that with you, Ichigo.”

Ichigo did laugh then, full and bright and contagious, and he offered Kisuke that brilliant smile that he'd missed so dearly. Kisuke’s mouth dropped open, and his cheeks burned when Ichigo leaned forward and promptly deposited himself right in Kisuke’s lap, arms looping around his neck as he leaned down to press a quick, nervous kiss to his lips.

“I would like that very much, Kisuke,” Ichigo answered quietly, smiling ear to ear as he rested his forehead against the blond’s. “But I do need one thing.”

Kisuke’s own smile, brighter and more honest than Ichigo had ever seen it, dimmed just a bit as he looked at Ichigo.

“Anything,” he whispered, realizing as he said it just how very true that sentiment was.

“Kiss me.”

And yeah, Kisuke could do that.

He looped his arms around Ichigo's waist, holding him tight against his body and keeping him firmly in his lap as he tilted his head up. It was odd to feel shorter than him for once, but when their lips met, he couldn't really find it in himself to care.

Ichigo’s mouth was soft and almost shy against his, such a contrast from the angry, hard kiss he'd been given a few days ago. Now he was tentative, leading Kisuke, but not trying to control the kiss.

Kisuke assumed the boy had a bit more experience than he did, regardless of their age difference, simply because he’d rarely allowed anyone this close physically, and never this close emotionally. So he let Ichigo walk him through the steps, let him guide until a testing tongue brushed over his lips.

Experience be damned, he wanted to taste Ichigo, so he took full control, given so easily, so mindlessly to him, and flicked his own tongue against Ichigo’s lip. The boy’s mouth opened for him on a pretty little gasp, tongue coming forward to rub sensuously against Kisuke’s. A moan vibrated up his throat when the blond sucked his tongue into his mouth, teasing and tempting and making him arch into Kisuke’s hold.

The blond pulled away shortly after, still holding Ichigo close, foreheads pressed together, as they caught their breath.

“How was that?” Kisuke asked with a grin, honest and open and teasing, and Ichigo would kill to be able to see that on a regular basis.

But he had more important things to think about right now.

“I think we’ll need to try again,” he teased. “I can hardly form an accurate conclusion after only one test, now can I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so the question is: do we want the smut or do we want to leave this soft and sweet and mostly innocent?
> 
> Also thank you guys so much for hitting 1k on this like that's so outrageously cool to me ahah
> 
> EDIT: Decided to leave this as is, because I like it lmao. If people really want smut of this, I'll add another chapter, but I think it's cute like this, so unless I get a ton of requests, I'm gonna leave it there.


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